


from then until

by 10softbot



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-07-04 01:53:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15831348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/10softbot/pseuds/10softbot
Summary: somewhere along the line things got blurry and tangled up and now taeyong is johnny’s best friend who he shares kisses, cuddles up under a warm blanket during movie night and occasionally shares a bed with.





	from then until

**Author's Note:**

> once again badly beta-d, it's almost 2am... again. shout out to allison for feeding my filthy brain with the idea and for that one cc anon for the 'fwb-to-lovers' setup. don't expect too much cause i don't know what's gotten to me
> 
> do not repost without permission.

It’s immensely annoying how easily Taeyong can toy around with him. Not that sharing an apartment with him is annoying, on the contrary – Taeyong is everything could ask from a roommate and more. He was hesitant to accept the offer at first, had always thought sharing an apartment with a friend could permanently damage their relationship if things went to shit, and now – now he just really fucking wishes he never took the offer in the first place.

He doesn’t really regret it, but somewhere along the line things got blurry and tangled up and now Taeyong is Johnny’s best friend who he shares kisses, cuddles up under a warm blanket during movie night and occasionally shares a bed with whenever Taeyong gets a really bad migraine. Actually, not only then, because after one too many drinks Taeyong had asked him if he was down to fucking and Johnny could feel his blood run cold in his veins back then.

A chocked out _yeah_ was all it took for shit to hit the fan and now everything is just too complicated. Not their relationship – that’s going quite well if he’s being asked, but they’ve got a free day from class due to an extreme heat alert issued and they’re supposed to be getting their assignments done, but it really looks like Taeyong has other plans in mind.

He is absolutely sure Taeyong does it on purpose. He always does, gets under his skin and on every single one of his nerves just to get a reaction out of him. Johnny hates it at times, because Taeyong comes up to him whenever he’s doing something important and it nearly has him popping a vein, making it hard to focus.

This time Johnny is sitting by the dinner table, papers scattered around as he tries to work on a paper that is due Monday. Taeyong is sitting by his feet on the floor right next to him, cheek resting against his thigh as Johnny cradles his fingers through his hair. Whenever they stay in for whatever reason Taeyong gets extra clingy, and it’s hard for Johnny to tell him no when Taeyong looks at him with such big, pleading eyes.

“Hey,” Johnny says softly, tapping his hand over the other’s head when he feels Taeyong’s body sink deeper into him and the boy hums in response. “Don’t fall asleep like this, it’s bad for your body.”

“Then give me attention,” Taeyong whines, pushing his head further up his lap and closer to his crotch, dragging his cotton shorts up along with him. “I’m so bored.”

“I’m not your nanny,” Johnny says in disbelief, completely ignoring the way Taeyong rubs his cheek against his thigh. “I have work to get done if I don’t want to fail this class.”

“But it’s Friday,” he says, looking up at Johnny again, giving him that look Johnny finds too hard to say no to. “you’ve got all weekend. Let’s do something.”

Johnny sighs in half defeat but still tries to negotiate. “Just let me get this bit done then. I need to call my professor and then we can do something.”

Taeyong lets out an annoyed huff but doesn’t say anything else. Instead, he resorts to playing with the hairs on Johnny’s legs, absentmindedly pinching and pulling them between his fingers. It doesn’t bother him; Taeyong has been doing this whenever he gets bored for the longest time. It’s something familiar he came to get used to, so now the sting whenever Taeyong pulls and yanks some of the hairs out doesn’t even bother him anymore.

He reaches for his phone from under the pile of papers scattered everywhere, shooting his professor a message before placing the call. She tells him it’s okay to call so he does and waits for the call to go through, hands still playing with Taeyong’s hair. It shouldn’t take long; he only has a couple questions about a particular topic from the paper and then it will be over. Only that, as soon as she answers the call, Taeyong slips his fingers up his thigh and inside his shorts and it has him choking up on his words on the spot.

“ _Yes, Youngho?_ ” her voice chimes in from the other end and he takes a deep, shaky breath. “ _You needed help with something?_ ”

“Y-yeah,” he tries, Taeyong’s fingers tracing the skin of his thigh so delicately it feels ghost-like. “I was– I was j-just wondering,” he breathes in when Taeyong’s hand wrap around same thigh, “what do you think would’ve happened if– if the witches had summoned different apparitions to Macbeth on Act IV.”

He tries to focus on what his professor is saying on the other end of the line but it’s proving to be incredibly hard to with the way Taeyong keeps rubbing his cheek on the expanse of his skin, fingers massaging the muscle where he’s hold a hold on. He holds back a sigh when Taeyong’s hand slips further up, mouth falling open in a silent moan when same hand palms him over his boxers, and he’d be damned if he said he was actually paying attention to anything his professor was telling him.

“I see,” he manages to get out to keep the conversation going, brain completely shutting down when Taeyong slips his hand out only to grab his shorts and boxers by the hem and pulling them down way too forcefully, for Johnny refuses to cooperate with him on his hell sent plan.

Taeyong doesn’t really waste his time, wraps his fingers around the base of Johnny’s semi-erect dick and gives it a few quick pumps. There’s no much intent to it and he’s mostly doing it to fuck with his feelings, Johnny knows that, knows by the way Taeyong looks up at him through his lashes and the smug grin on his lips. The hand on the boy’s hair falls down to cup his cheek, thumb running across Taeyong’s lower lip, and he holds back a moan when Taeyong glides his hand up and thumbs at the head, swelling by the minute.

The fact that he can’t simply hang up the phone and call back some other time is infuriating, and this is probably why Taeyong is doing this right now – because he knows it too. He knows this is an important call and that Johnny should have all his focus on it, but he decides directing all the focus to him instead is way more entertaining than listening to him go on about some Shakespeare play anytime.

So he quickens up the pace of his wrist, places an open mouthed kiss on Johnny’s thigh and revels in the way Johnny lets a barely audible grunt out. He’s still going on about some Lennox and some Macduff lady he doesn’t even try to pick up on, knuckles going white from holding his phone so tightly. Taeyong twists his wrist and tightens his hold once he’s back to the base again, watches as Johnny closes his eyes and tries to focus on his call instead.

Taeyong waits until he feels the call is leading to an end, lazily pumping his cock and thumbing at the head every now and then. He waits until Johnny’s tone changes to one of dismissal, waits until he makes one last question before licking the beads of precum collecting at the head and pushing his dick all the way into his mouth. Johnny loudly chokes up when he immediately deepthroats him, his free hand flying in a closed fist to his mouth to stop himself from screaming.

Taeyong hums around his dick, pushes it as far as it’ll go before pulling back and taking a deep breath in. He looks up at Johnny and Johnny is staring right back at him, and there’s a smirk on Taeyong’s lips Johnny truly wishes he could wipe off his face. He licks the head again, laps at it and runs his tongue on the underside and goes all the way down again, moaning when the tip hits the back of his throat.

Then there’s a hand gripping his hair tightly and shoving him further down, and the loud curse falling from Johnny’s lips lets him know the call is already over.

“You think this is fucking funny?” Johnny growls, pushing Taeyong’s head down his cock until his nose brushes against his pelvis and Taeyong whines from the strain on his lips and his throat. “Is my grade a fucking joke to you?”

He pulls Taeyong away and the boy gasps, tears prickling at the corner of his eyes. He’s panting and there is spit all over his lips and chin, a mess that turns Johnny on even further. “I told you to give me attention,” Taeyong mutters, a pout on his lips but eyes completely hazed out.

Johnny pulls him up by the hair and into a bruising kiss, more tongue than lips and Taeyong mewls into his mouth. When they break, there is a string of saliva connecting their lips and he groans. “Go get lube and a condom before I change my goddamn mind,” his voice is but a command and Taeyong quickly scurries up to his feet.

Johnny looks at the papers in front of him and lets out a frustrated sigh, a hand running through his hair as he gets up on his feet and starts to push things away. Taeyong definitely does it on purpose, and sometimes he hates it. He is barely done closing his books when Taeyong comes tripping back into the room, throwing the condom and lube on the table as he hurries over and kisses Johnny again, hands on either side of his face.

Johnny’s hands naturally find their way to his hips, strong and grounding and holding him back from bucking up. He notices Taeyong only has his boxers on under the rather large shirt – which Johnny belatedly notices is his own – and groans at that, lets his hands slip inside the fabric to trace the bare skin right above the hem of his underwear.

“Why are you so goddamn annoying,” Johnny asks into the kiss, fingers playing with the hem of his boxers and slipping in right after. Taeyong gasps when he squeezes his cheeks with a firm hold, and Johnny chuckles at him. “I thought this was what you wanted.”

“Please,” Taeyong breathes, grinding up against Johnny’s dick. “I want your dick deep inside me.”

“Yeah?” Johnny groans, grinding back at him, finger sliding down the crack of his ass and teasing his entrance ever so slightly and yet not enough. “You want it so bad you couldn’t have waited fifteen minutes?”

“Yeah,” Taeyong chokes out when Johnny presses against his rim, “that’s how fucking bad I want you.”

Johnny pulls away then, turns him around and pushes him flush down on the table. The wooden edge digs into his skin but he doesn’t care, not when Johnny’s hands work so fast on pulling his boxers down to his mid-thighs and spreading his cheeks apart. He doesn’t do much, though, and Taeyong starts squirming when the weight of Johnny’s stare starts to burn on his skin.

“ _Hurry_ ,” he whines, dick heavy and leaking between his legs, face flush against the surface. Johnny lands a sharp slap to his ass but moves along anyway, stepping away for a moment to fetch the condom and lube somewhere on the table. And Taeyong waits, fingers itching to take a hold of his own cock but he doesn’t, knows Johnny can be mean at times if he touches himself without being told to.

The push of the first lubed finger is a familiar sting, doesn’t do much for he fingered himself earlier that morning in the shower, Johnny’s name on his lips. But Johnny goes deeper than his own finger can go, crooks the digit and moves it around in a way he could never under any circumstances. It feels good and he moans, pushes back and asks for more. And Johnny complies, pushes a second in up to the last knuckle with ease, scissors him up and pushes in deeper until he’s almost crying, cock leaking and dripping on their hardwood floor.

Three fingers has Taeyong sobbing at the burn. It feels good and it’s too much, Johnny pressing and rubbing against his prostate with practiced precision every time he thrusts them back in and the tight knot in his stomach tells Taeyong he is going to come soon if they keep this up. And he doesn’t have to say it because Johnny knows, reads him like an open book and is soon pulling his fingers out and wiping them clean on Taeyong’s bunched up underwear.

Johnny rolls the condom down his dick, pours more lube on his hand and moans when he strokes himself up. It’s starting to get ridiculous how often they do this, but as he presses the tip against Taeyong’s stretched hole and slowly pushes in, any sort of complain dies in the back of his brain. Anything he could ever say flies straight out of the window when Taeyong clenches around him, moans getting louder when Johnny doesn’t stop pushing until he is balls deep into him.

“ _Mm fuck_ ,” Johnny moans out, bending down to press his chest against Taeyong’s back. He can feel how hard Taeyong is breathing, can feel the rise and fall of his chest and his heart trying to beat its way out his body. Johnny chuckles, presses a kiss to his neck and Taeyong shivers, rolls his hips a little in an attempt to get Johnny to move.

He does, slow and methodic and it makes Taeyong want to crawl at his skin, the glide of Johnny’s dick against his walls so slow it has him sobbing for more. Johnny doesn’t listen to him this time and Taeyong knows this is payback, tries to move a hand down to touch himself only to have it swatted away.

“I didn’t say you could to that,” Johnny grunts with a particularly hard thrust that makes his body slide further up the table and the edge presses hard on the base of his cock. He whines and tries again, only to have Johnny pinning his wrists on his back with a rather large hand. “You don’t deserve to be touched, Yong. You’re gonna come from my dick alone and you’re gonna love it.”

Taeyong whines again, chokes out a moan when Johnny pulls back and slams back in right on his prostate. His vision whites out and he gasps, tries to fight Johnny’s hold on his wrists only to have him hold on tighter. Johnny straightens his back up again, free hand holding on Taeyong’s hip as he readjusts his angle and thrusts harder.

The constant press of Johnny’s dick against his prostate and the table against the base of his dick has Taeyong drooling all over himself, the coiling feeling in his stomach growing by the second as his vision starts to dot in white. He keeps moaning Johnny’s name, along with strings of _please_ , _fuck_ and _mmyeah more_ until he can no longer understand himself. It’s too much, and Johnny’s hand leaves his wrists only to grip him by the hair, to pull his head back and kiss him again, all tongue and teeth.

His hands try to find purchase on the table and when he fails, he sets on reaching back and holding Johnny’s head in place by the hair instead. Johnny kisses him senseless and it momentarily makes him forget who he is, his thighs shaking so much he can feel his knees give way, and for a second he is glad the table is right there to keep him up.

“Johnny, _please_ ,” Taeyong pleads, voice a mix between a choked moan and a cry. “Please I– I need– I need to come.”

“I’m not holding you back, sweetheart” Johnny whispers hot and low in his ear, and the pet name makes Taeyong blush all the way to his ears. He moans quietly when Johnny lets go of his hair only to slip the hand between the take and his torso. “You can come whenever you want.”

He sounds extremely condescending and Taeyong cries out when Johnny rubs a finger against his nipple. He plays with the swollen bud, flicks it around until Taeyong is arching his back up in an attempt for him to stop. He doesn’t, keeps toying with him until Taeyong’s whines turn into sobs, his thrusts deep and precise against his prostate and all it takes is a flick of his tongue against the shell of his ear for Taeyong to come with a shout.

His entire body shivers when he comes, thick spurts painting the hardwood floor white. Johnny keeps fucking into him, faster and sloppier as he chases his own orgasm, and when Taeyong clenches around him for too long from overstimulation he comes too, cum warm inside the condom and Taeyong all but hums in contentment at the feeling.

Johnny pulls out and powerwalks to the bathroom to discard of the condom, grabbing a wet towel to clean Taeyong up. When he walks back out, Taeyong has left the table and is sitting on the couch, legs pulled up to his chest. It makes him look like a child and Johnny chuckles softly at that. He approaches the boy and offers him the towel with a warm smile, to which Taeyong only puts his legs down and waits.

He sits next to him on the floor, rubbing the cloth over his thighs and watching as Taeyong chews on his bottom lip.

“What is it?” Johnny asks, and Taeyong keeps quiet for a moment. “You know you could’ve just waited for me to finish my–”

“Be my boyfriend” Taeyong blurts out, cutting him off. His hand stops moving and he freezes, surprised eyes looking up at Taeyong.

“What did you just say?” he asks, although he is absolutely sure he heard the words just right.

“Be my boyfriend,” he repeats, looking deep into his eyes this time. He is blushing and Johnny’s face immediately softens. “We’re basically dating, so I might as well just call you my boyfriend.”

“Okay,” Johnny says simply, setting the cloth aside and placing a gentle hand on the boy’s thigh. Taeyong looks at him, a small smile on his lips.

“Okay?” he asks, and Johnny smiles warmly at him.

“Okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to yell at me on twitter or curiouscat because i deserve it   
>  [twitter](twitter.com/10softbot) | [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/10softbot)


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